The Shadow Broker Files
by Razzmatazzy
Summary: A collection of one-shots with the characters we all know and love. Romance, hilarity, tragedy, and a lot of sheer awesomeness - it's all here in the Shadow Broker Files. (Thane/Shepard is my primary pairing.)
1. Dancing Lessons

_(Author's Note: So, this is my collection of Mass Effect one-shots! Expect lots of Thane/Shepard in here because it's awesome. You'll never hear my Shepard's first name (so readers can better relate), she's a Soldier, full paragon background, and has blue eyes - that's the only personal trait I'll mention because green-eyed redheads are just too darn cliche.  
_

_A wonderful thing happened when I wrote this - the story started growing on its own and ended up twice as long as I had anticipated. I started this thinking I wouldn't put any sugar in it and well, the characters demanded more screen time. I hope you brush your teeth!)_

**Dancing Lessons**

Thane was in the middle of composing a message to his son when he became aware of an unfamiliar sound that kept repeating intermittently. Normally this wasn't a problem - he'd learned to block out all distractions when very young in order to make the perfect shot. The problem was, every time it drew his attention away from the absorbing task at hand, it would stop.

This kept on for the better part of an hour until, at last, it was so distracting he halted his work and froze. One second he was typing out a message to Kolyat and the next he'd stopped all movement entirely. It took a great deal of training and control to just completely _freeze_ the way he did, but it had become second nature long ago. If anyone walked into the room at that moment, they might have thought he'd been replaced by a very realistic statue. His breathing slowed as to be imperceptible, and he subconsciously schooled his heart to slow, slow, making the rushing of blood in his ears diminish.

He paused, hands hovering above the holo keyboard, head cocked to the side as he strained to hear.

Silence.

With a patience learned over a lifetime of hunting the most advanced species in the galaxy, he waited.

_Thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump, thump-_

Now he heard raised voices, definitely coming somewhere to the right of his position. That would be the port observation deck, which Kasumi had adopted as her quarters. Goto's voice he recognized easily - though she was easily the stealthiest person he'd ever known, she didn't know how to hide some aspects of her presence. One time she'd snuck into Life Support right behind him. Thanks to the treatment he'd had on his eyes, he could 'see' the very faint gamma signature put off by her stealth gear as a silvery haze. He had stared at her for several minutes before she finally left. Ever since then it'd been something of a game for her, trying to sneak around him without being detected. She had yet to succeed.

The other voice was unmistakably Shepard's, clearly in argument - he could hear the distressed harmonics in her voice.

Now this presented a baffling paradox. Shepard was the most calm, collected person he knew, capable of perfect control while still allowing sincere compassion. No matter what actions duty might call upon her, no matter what odds she faced, she never lost the supreme confidence defining of her character. She was always comfortably friendly with everyone on the ship and several times he'd nearly forgotten she was one of the deadliest people in the galaxy and a daunting force to be reckoned with.

But never, _ever_, did he think to hear her in distress. From what he understood, she'd never lost her composure, even when the deck-plates of the first Normandy were crumbling beneath her. Whatever had her in such distress that he could hear it from here, through several feet of armored steel, must be dire.

He had to investigate.

In a few swift strides, he had left Life Support and was approaching the port observation deck, keeping his footsteps light and silent. Yes, he could definitely hear their voices clearer now, but the armored door made exact speech indecipherable.

Without hesitation, he keyed open the door and stepped inside - if Shepard was facing conflict with Kasumi, he had to back her up. He owed her too much to do anything less. So, without announcing himself, he stepped inside the port observation deck and found himself in a situation he did not expect.

Kasumi and Shepard were... dare he say it?... _embracing?_ No, that wasn't quite right. They were standing close together, Shepard with her left hand uncomfortably touching Kasumi's right shoulder, and her other hand clasped in Kasumi's right. The thief had her other hand on Shepard's back, and there was too much space between their bodies for it to be an embrace.

The _thump thump thump_ he'd heard earlier issued from the speakers around the bar, a droning beat with no musical accompaniment. The two women were arguing hotly about something - all Thane caught was something about "these stupid heels" - and stopped when he entered.

Shepard's eyes widened at the sight of him. "Oh thank god. Thane, _save me."_

Thane opened his mouth to say something when he fully took in the rest of the scene.

Shepard, the destroyer of Reapers, savior of the Citadel, protector of the Council... was wearing a little black dress. And makeup. And her hair was down. And she was wearing _high heels._

He was stunned.

That in itself was something worth note.

What truly surprised him is how good it looked on her. She didn't look like the Commander anymore. In fact, she looked more like... well, like Shepard the person, the woman, not a military figure on recruitment posters.

Belatedly, he realized he'd been standing there with his mouth hanging open in surprise. This lapse, though very brief, was unbecoming. He cleared his throat and fell into a ready stance with his hands clasped behind his back. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I heard raised voices and thought something might be amiss."

"Actually," said Kasumi, "You're timing is just right. This wasn't working out anyway. Maybe you can help." Though her hood shadowed most of her face and her voice held its usual playful flippancy, he could practically _smell_ the smug satisfaction coming from her.

"I'm afraid I do not follow your meaning."

Shepard sighed, a frustrated expression crossing her face. "She's teaching me how to dance."

Oh.

That explained quite a bit.

Ever tactful, he simply said, "I see. For what purpose, if I may ask?"

"Kasumi here needs to get back some property her partner left her before he died," Shepard said quickly. "It's being held in a vault owned by a powerful businessman who's throwing a high-end party. We're to inflitrate the party, crack the vault, and steal it back."

"Except," Kasumi added brightly, "She has absolutely no idea how to dance. She's supposed to be a leader of an elite mercenary band! If they see her doing that swaying thing she does, it'll completely blow our cover."

Thane nodded. "I see. And how long have you been doing this?"

"Three. Hours," said Shepard through gritted teeth. "We'll arrive at Bekenstien in another two."

"I can see how that would be problematic. If you like, I can summon Mr. Gardner to assist you."

"The _cook?"_ spluttered Kasumi

"He is a very good dancer," Thane said, unperturbed by their stunned looks. "A few days ago, he and several others were dancing when Engineer Donnelly started playing his bagpipes one evening."

This was met with a thoughtful, stunned silence.

"I shall get him for you." The door slid open before him as he turned to leave.

"Oh no you don't!" A powerful yank on the back of his jacket prevented his foot from touching the hallway floor and, unbalanced, he started to stumble backwards. Kasumi deftly averted his fall by grabbing his arm and putting her weight against his, making him roll off the pivot she'd made of her shoulder. He reeled around the slight thief - who knew how to make very effective use of momentum and weight - and ended up in front of Shepard, who glared at him.

"Thane Krios," she said in a voice usually reserved for thresher maws and politicians, "I am suffering enough humiliation at the hands of this kleptomaniac as is. I would prefer to _not_ to feed the rumor mill with this newest disaster of my life, thank you."

He couldn't help but smile slightly at that. Shepard's dancing skills - and the complete lack thereof - were legendary. He gave a short bow in acquiescence. "Of course, siha. I will say nothing."

"Oh, _your_ silence doesn't have me concerned." Shepard crossed her arms over her chest - which the dress flattered rather nicely - and assumed what he'd come to recognize as her amused-defiant pose, weight balanced on one leg, hip slightly shot to one side. "You're the only person I trust on this ship to keep his mouth shut. It's everyone else I'm worried about."

"Even EDI?"

The narrowing of her eyes answered that question for him.

Kasumi clapped her hands, rubbing her palms together in a decidedly malevolent, scheming manner. "Right! So the only option is for you two to dance together."

"What?" Thane and Shepard chorused.

"I'm afraid I know very little in the way of human dancing," Thane said quickly, masking his nervousness. He cared a great deal for Shepard but dancing... could be very intimate and he didn't wish to jeopardize their growing relationship with awkwardness. Throw in some inter-species fumbling and they were both bound to be embarrassed.

Kasumi merely waved his explanation away as she moved toward the sound system behind the bar. "I'm sure you can manage, it's all about rhythm anyway. Just put your amazing assassin reflexes to good use. Besides, the _real_ problem is that Ms. Spectre here is constantly trying to lead, no matter how many times I step on her toes. Maybe she'll behave herself with a big strong drell to twirl her around." She winked at the last part, her wicked grin plain to see.

Shepard took a step forward, one hand drifting to an absent sidearm. Thane, quite amused, noted that she was blushing. _"Kasumi-"_ she began hotly, but her threat went incomplete.

The high heels she was balancing on so precariously wobbled dangerously and her leading foot slipped right out from underneath her, pitching her to one side. Automatically, he grabbed her and she clung to him for support. Her right arm flew out and wrapped around his left shoulder as he held her up with both hands. She snarled something that didn't translate as her heels kept sliding away on the slippery floor, forcing her to hang onto him entirely or else fall down in an undignified heap.

When her feet had finally found purchase again, they were in a half-embrace and standing very, very close. Shepard looked up and their eyes locked for a moment. Thane saw something move deep inside as her pupils dilated. She quickly glanced away, scowling at the grinning Kasumi. "At least let me take off these damn heels."

"No can do, Commander," chirped the thief. "You'll have to learn with them on, do or die. And look, you guys are halfway to dancing already!"

"At this rate, _someone_ is likely to die," Shepard muttered sourly. Thane chuckled.

"I am not opposed to learning." He smiled gently when Shepard glanced at him, and she gave him a quiet smile of her own. Then she sighed and took a step back, out of their accidental embrace, though her hands lingered on his own. She made a sweeping gesture to encompass the two of them.

"Alright, show me how to stand again."

"It's really easy, Shep," Kasumi began. Something in her tone made Thane think she'd often repeated these words. "It's only the simplest dance you can learn, other than a foxtrot."

"And why am I not learning that?" Shepard asked, eying Kasumi suspiciously as the woman approached.

Kasumi snorted. "Because that's basic stuff, things kids learn the last five minutes before prom. No class at all. Now, put your left hand here." She grabbed the hand in question and put it on Thane's right shoulder. "Now Thane, raise your right hand and hold her left - good, but shift your fingers like you're cupping water. Good! Her hand should look like it's lightly resting on yours. Now, put your other hand on her back. No, lower. Lower. Just a little more - good!"

As Kasumi directed, he let his hand slide a short distance each time down Shepard's back until it came to rest above the small of her back. Each time he did, he felt the muscles along her back tighten and Shepard squirmed a little.

"Am I causing you discomfort, siha?" Perhaps he'd commuted some faux pas in his ignorance of human anatomy? Kasumi crouched by their feet to forcibly pick up and place their legs in the 'proper starting position.' Every now and then, she would adjust a hand or prod them in the side to make them shift their weight.

The soldier just shook her head and gave him a self-deprecating smile. "No, I'm just a little ticklish."

Ah, now that he could understand. While not nearly as sensitive as humans, asari, drell, and salarians were all ticklish to a degree. Like humans, some individuals were entirely impervious to tickling - he'd always assumed Shepard to be of that number. It was somehow charming to find otherwise. In fact, she seemed a little embarrassed to admit it.

"I am as well," he said. He spoke casually, as if Kasumi wasn't lifting his left foot to put into proper position. At Shepard's surprised look, he added, "I find I'm most susceptible at my ribs and the bottom of my feet. This is a highly classified secret though - I trust you understand."

She chuckled and winked. "Oh yes, very clear. Can't have your only weakness being known, now can we?"

He inclined his head slightly, smiling. It was refreshing to talk to someone who shared his brand of quiet humor. "Just so."

Kasumi straightened, apparently satisfied. "Alright! Now you're good to go, but you have to be closer."

Unsure of what she meant, they closed the distance between them a little. Rolling her eyes, Kasumi put a hand on each back and pushed so that they were firmly held together from hip to chest. _"Closer,_ I said."

Even Thane felt a moment of awkwardness at such intimate contact and a glance down proved that Shepard was avoiding his gaze - and her cheeks had gone pink again. It was a fascinating phenomenon; he'd have to research what it meant. This close, he could smell the delicate perfume she was wearing, a beautiful and somehow familiar fragrance. It suited her perfectly.

Kasumi padded over to the bar, moving silently even without meaning to, and tapped in a song on the sound system. Again, the computerized beat began to thrum from the speakers in 3/4 time. _Thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump, thump-thump-thump..._

"Okay, so this is how it works," began Kasumi. "We'll start slow. Thane, you lead by turning toward your right and taking a short step forward. Shep, you turn to your left and _follow his lead._ It's a three-part beat, so no extra steps!" This last was said with a warning look at Shepard. "Watch me." Holding up her hands as if with an invisible partner, Kasumi gracefully twirled around the room in a few simple steps. "And that's it. Here, Thane, you can see what it looks like on this."

Holding up her omni-tool, Kasumi brought up a video of a couple at some dance competition, floating effortlessly across the dance floor. As it played, she gently counted out, "One - two - three, one - two - three, one..." with their movements.

"Ah, yes, I am familiar with that dance," Thane said, watching the video. "It is not dissimilar to a popular one among my own people. This..." the translator lagged on producing a pronunciation, "'Viennese Waltz' is slightly faster, and with a shorter beat, but it should be simple enough to adapt."

Kasumi grinned at him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Excellent! See, Shep, it's a good thing he came in, isn't it?"

"Hmm?" Shepard had been wistfully eyeing the drinks behind the bar. "Oh, yes, very lucky indeed."

It took a great deal of control to not laugh at the melange of frustration, exasperation and near-hopelessness that crossed Kasumi's face, but somehow Thane managed. Shaking her head, Kasumi stepped behind Thane and poked his right shoulder. "Okay, now, take a long step to your right while turning in that direction."

He did so. Shepard stumbled on her heels, but managed to keep to her feet. "Okay, now that was on beat _one,_" said Kasumi. "Now for the next step..."

And so went the dance lesson, going over the basic steps excruciatingly slow. While Thane took the steps with no trouble, Shepard was another story. Whereas the drell had no problem gliding about the space with perfect ease and grace, Shepard stomped her feet on each step as if she were marching to battle and not a gala. Only one of them was truly dancing no matter how many times the other two gave pointers. At last Kasumi gave up.

Throwing her hands up in the air, she proclaimed it a lost cause. "It's hopeless, Shep! Even an alien can dance this with no problem - no offense, Thane."

"None taken."

"But you," she stabbed a finger at Shepard, "You don't have a dancing bone in your body!" With a frustrated wave of one hand, the thief cut off the dull computer rhythm that had been playing. The other two took the break in lessons to sit on the couch and rest.

"Well forgive me," Shepard said dryly. "Not all of us are gifted with such natural grace as _some_ people." Her blue eyes flicked over Thane and Kasumi, clear in her meaning. "I'm a soldier. Dancing wasn't meant for people like me." Sighing, she reached down to massage her already aching feet. "I'm all elbows and hand grenades."

"That is untrue," Thane said before he could check himself. Both women stared at him. Too late to stay silent now, he added, "You are very graceful, especially in battle."

And just like that, a memory, unbidden, rose out of the depths and hit him like a tsunami.

He could remember...

_...The sunlight glinting off the gold accents in Shepard's white armor - bright colors, bold, proclaiming she feared no one, daring them to target her. The scarlet bolts of enemy fire stabbed through the air as Shepard rolled and dodged from cover to cover with perfect ease. As she raced toward the last bit of cover, a missile sped toward her. With a twist of her body, she spun away from it, letting the missile fly past just inches from her back, while she drew the Cain in one smooth motion. She raced for the Geth Colossus, dipping and dodging like a dancer, completely effortless, as the Cain began to glow..._

And then he was back in the port observation deck, sitting on the couch next to Shepard, with her and Kasumi watching him. Immediately he realized he'd slipped into the perfect recall that was the blessing and curse of his race. It was embarrassing to have it happen involuntarily like that. Uncomfortable, not even sure what he'd said exactly, he stood and faced the window, preferring to gaze upon the cold and distant stars than face the curious looks from Kasumi.

Then, as if he'd merely contributed to the conversation in a more mundane fashion, Shepard said, "I guess you have a point but it's different in battle. It's... I don't know how to explain it."

Thane made a silent prayer of thanks to Arashu for Shepard's social graces. She treated him no differently for his lapse. There was no question, no judgement from her: Just acceptance.

Taking her cue from Shepard, Kasumi leaned one elbow on the bar and rested her chin in her hand. "What's so different about a battle that makes you all thumbs when you're on the dance floor?"

"You mean other than the high heels?" Shepard said sourly. He heard her rise and walk over to stand next to him, gazing out into the endless field of stars. "I suppose... it's the security of the situation. It feels familiar. I know all the steps to _that_ dance."

He saw her reflection in the glass smile reassuringly, eyes on his own image. Grateful, he nodded slightly, acknowledging her meaning - she had accepted his lapse into memory and was telling him not to worry. Odd that they could communicate so easily after knowing each other for such a short time, but it felt like they'd done this for years.

"Not many would consider a firefight to be safe, Shep," said Kasumi dryly.

Shepard's brows furrowed slightly. "Fine, not safety but... trust, I guess. I know there are people right behind me, ready to back me up, ready to charge in guns blazing or pull me out of the fire. I know exactly where I'm going, what to do, and what will happen if something goes wrong. I'm _not_ stumbling around backwards, praying I'm not going to fall on my face."

Kasumi considered this for a moment. "Dancing is the same thing, Shep. It's all about trust. You're trusting your partner to lead you through the dance safely, aren't you? And if you fall, he'll catch you. So really, the question you should be asking yourself is do you trust your partner to bring you through safely?"

Thane and Shepard looked at each other. Their eyes met as Shepard said, quietly, "Yes. I trust him with my life." And somehow, he knew it wasn't just the soldier speaking but Shepard herself. It stirred a sense of touched pride within him.

Before either of them could speak, Shepard turned and strode back to the center of the dance floor. "Kas, put on some _real_ music, please. Thane, come here. Let's do this again."

He recognized that look in her eye - the same look she got when someone told her something was impossible. It was the look of cool determination she acquired when she heard the words _'suicide mission.'_

Challenge accepted.

Sighing, Kasumi turned to the sound system and began tapping away.

Thane stepped forward and made a polite bow as something ancient and elegant began to issue from the speakers. "May I have this dance, siha?"

Shepard executed a perfect curtsy, hands making a graceful motion as they swept out to the side. "It would be my pleasure, Sere Krios."

They stepped together and this time he felt something different in Shepard. Instead of holding herself stiffly, she seemed to melt against him, as if this was the natural place for her to be. It felt surprisingly good to have that length of warmth pressed so comfortably against him. Even more curious, as they closed together, Shepard took a deep breath, shut her eyes and smiled slightly.

He knew, then, what she was doing - she was sacrificing all her own sense and instincts in favor of his own, trusting him entirely. Such total abandonment of her own senses was a great sacrifice, especially for a hardened soldier like her. It that simple act of closing her eyes and giving up control, she told him she would put her life in his hands, fighting every instinct all her training and hard-won battles had woven into the very fiber of her being. Her earlier words had not been hollow - She was putting herself, her heart, in his hands.

He prayed that they were strong enough for such a precious burden.

As he took the first step, they seemed glide an inch above the floor, moving as if with frictionless ease. They were dancing as though they'd been doing this for years.

Kasumi said something in shocked tones that was lost in the music. Shepard, eyes still closed, grinned and a pleased chuckle slipped from him, a low sound deep in his chest.

As the music swelled, he began to throw in a few steps they hadn't rehearsed - and Shepard moved with it perfectly. Kasumi exclaimed, _"What?"_ as they spun through the complex steps and Shepard laughed.

"The door," she said and Thane immediately guided them that way. The door opened and they glided out into the ship proper, leaving an open-mouthed Kasumi behind.

Following the music that only they could hear, they kept dancing, the steps as natural as breathing. Someone rounded the corner at the last second and Thane quickly did a reverse turn, spinning away from the crew member the same way Shepard had spun away from the missile in his memory. This put them down the hallway out into the open area of the ship where about a quarter of the crew was having a late lunch.

A sudden, stunned silence gripped the room.

Careful of where they were going, Thane guided them through the tables, ignoring the open-mouthed stares they were getting. He deftly steered Shepard through the disaster area of a mess hall, avoiding spilled coffee and forgotten napkins, sliding away from smears of mustard and side-stepping noodles that had slipped from forks held in slack hands. Each step he took followed a beat only he could hear, echoes of the song Kasumi had found playing in his mind.

At last, they had navigated the entire mess area safely, without a speck of food on either of them - and the whole while, Shepard had her eyes closed.

"Elevator," she whispered into the stunned silence they'd left behind, and he turned them in that direction.

EDI must have been watching because the doors opened just as they approached. The music in his mind came to a brilliant ending crescendo as they stepped inside and spun to a graceful halt. At the same time, the doors slid shut on a flustered Kasumi racing for the elevator.

Only then did Shepard open her eyes to meet the dark-eyed gaze of Thane just inches away.

Neither of them moved, content to remain in the dancing embrace, both of them breathing a little hard. There was a pleasant heat between them that had nothing to do with waltzing.

There was something in this moment, some unspoken invitation, that made him want to _act_, to claim it as his own. All his life he'd merely followed orders, pulled the trigger or snapped a neck when told to. Though his body did battle, his soul had slept, not caring for or needing the outside world. Only once had he felt this way before, when Irikah had filled his scope sights.

Oceans take him if he let this moment slip by.

Without thinking, he pulled her against him even more, pleased at the hitch it caused in her breathing, and gently put his brow against hers. "Thank you for dancing with me, siha."

Shepard laughed, hands sliding up his shoulders until her wrists crossed behind his neck. "We're learning the tango next."

"No concerns about the rumor mill?"

She shrugged, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "I think we took care of that when we danced through lunch break."

He grinned. "Did you see Kasumi's face?"

"Ah, yes." She sighed wistfully. "What I wouldn't give for perfect memory, just for that!"

"I'll ask EDI to make a copy of the security records," he offered.

"That's very sweet of you." She breathed deeply and closed her eyes. "You smell like frankincense... and myrrh." She took another deep breath and smiled wistfully. "It reminds me of home."

He hadn't really planned on kissing her, hadn't even thought of it before, to be honest. It just sort of happened. Something in her words had touched something deep within him, something he'd been too afraid to truly admit to himself for fear of finding the feeling was unrequited.

She reminded him of home too.

It'd been a long time since he'd kissed a woman, and he'd entirely forgotten the wonderful rush that came with it, the exquisite pleasure such a small touch could induce. He took his time, savoring a pleasure long been denied to him, and Shepard didn't seem inclined to make him hurry.

When they parted, Shepard's pupils had dilated again, turning her irises to thin blue rings, and her cheeks were flushed. She looked a little dazed as she grinned at him daffily. "I _love_ this elevator."

The words were so unexpected, certainly not what he'd anticipated, that he froze for a moment, wondering if she was trying to change the subject to derail any further amourous advances. It only took him a second more to realize her meaning and he burst out laughing.

The elevator was the bane of the ship, slow enough to warrant true hatred from the crew. Now, however, it allowed them quite some time alone together. "Its virtues are just becoming known to me," he said, still chuckling.

They had another minute before they reached the shuttle bay.

When the elevator doors opened on the hangar deck, Thane and Shepard were standing apart, looking composed and professional. It was offset slightly by Shepard's curious smile, but no one seemed to notice. The sight of her in a little black dress drew all the attention.

With all the grace and chivalry of a knight of yore, Thane graciously offered his arm for Shepard, which she took with a murmured thanks. The picture of elegance and sophistication, the two strode for the shuttle. To the observer, he was merely being courteous, and possibly warding off any astonished looks from the crew.

In reality, Thane was helping her stay on her feet, and not just because of her heels. A few seconds before the elevator opened, Shepard had said, with a slightly daft smile, "There's rainbows around all the lights." Looking at him, her eyes had widened and she exclaimed, "Thane! You're glittery!"

Something had clearly happened that neither of them expected. No doubt Mordin would have information, but the effects didn't seem too serious. In any case, he deemed it prudent to escort her across the bay, loftily ignoring the gawping looks Shepard garnered, just to make sure she didn't fall and besmirch her dignity.

Once he saw her comfortably seated in the passenger seat of the shuttle, he reluctantly left her, unable to resist letting a hand trail through her hair one last time. She chuckled as he did. "I'm fine, Thane. All the lights have rainbow halos is all." She flapped her hands at him as she started flipping switches, warming up the shuttle. "Now scram before Kasumi gets here."

Smiling a little, he bowed, a soft, "Be careful, siha," his only farewell as he turned to leave.

Just before the doors shut behind him he heard Shepard snort. "If I did that, they'd dock my hazard pay."

He strode back to the elevator, the essence of restrained lethality that had everything to do with his training and not how he felt. If he were to express how he felt, he'd be doing cartwheels or something equally ludicrous. For the first time in years, it felt like he had too much energy that he couldn't hope to burn.

Maybe he'd learn some new dance while Shepard was away?

It bore some consideration.

Once the elevator opened, he and Kasumi traded places. He blithely ignored the cunning grin Kasumi shot at him and requested to be taken to the crew deck. Without Shepard, the elevator's lethargic charm was lost on him.

With nothing better to do, he returned to Life Support and sat once more before the email he'd been writing to Kolyat before he'd been interrupted. Reading over it, he realized how... stilted it sounded, how stiff and formally the words were strung together. He was supposed to be reconnecting with his son, letting Kolyat know who his estranged father was. The only thing this email did was emphasize how truly great the distance was between them.

It would never do.

With a flick of his fingers, he erased it all and stared at the screen, racking his brain for something appropriate to say.

What would fathers say to their sons? He'd never really known his own - taken away for training at six years old, he had precious few memories of his father and reviewing them offered little help. He knew the general things, though. Fathers were the strong confidants, offering support, sage advice and embarrassing stories when the opportunity presented itself. But he had none of those to give, unless one counted optimum firing positions and which bones were the easiest to break for a quick death.

What words could span ten years of betrayal and mistrust? What could he say that would help Kolyat and get him to know his father at the same time?

Sighing, Thane sat back in his chair, for the first time feeling a little stir crazy. He didn't twitch or tap his fingers - that had been thoroughly trained out of him very early. Instead, he fell back on his memory, searching for ideas, for some brilliant spark to aid him...

_...Irikah hums an old tune as she tidies up around the house, the sweet lull of her voice easing me to sleep..._

_...smoke rising from my latest foray into cooking. The smoke smells like charred feathers and I rush it outside as tiny Kolyat, just a few weeks old, begins bawling at the top of his powerful drell lungs. Irikah, stifling her laughter, begins to comfort him..._

_...listening to the gentle sigh of water whispering against the belly of the canoe I lie in, staring up at the clouds painted purple and green by the setting sun, not wanting this moment to end. Tomorrow, I go back out on another assignment..._

No, none of these would do. It was doubtful Kolyat would welcome stories of his mother just yet, such a tender subject as that was between them. Baby stories were only likely to insult him and Thane didn't want to jeopardize their connection by making light of his earliest years. No, he had to write something that Kolyat would find helpful but intriguing, disassembling the mystery that Thane had unwittingly become to his own family.

Several minutes went by as Thane sat in silence and pondered. After about twenty minutes he blinked several times and slowly smiled as he sat up and began typing.

_Kolyat,_

_I know you've been quite lonely on the Citadel and there are no easy ways I know of to make friends. However, I suggest you look into taking dancing lessons, as I find it's a very enjoyable pastime and, as humans say, is an excellent way to break the ice..._

**xXxXx**

A couple of hours later, Shepard and Kasumi made it back. Desiring discretion over satisfying his curiosity, Thane did not seek them out on their return. It would be unwise to do so anyway, if the way Shepard - with grim cheer - flung the high heels out the airlock was anything to judge by. Ever patient, he waited until everyone was gathered for dinner to find out what had happened.

Smoothly sliding into place across from Shepard, Kasumi just a seat away, he decided to wait a few more minutes. Shepard was knocking back what he recognized as pain pills and had her eyes closed, presumably waiting for them to kick in. Since she hadn't been to see Chakwas, the painkillers must be for the tortures endured by the high heels. He took a few bites of his food, grateful that Gardner's abilities had much improved over the last few days.

After a few bites, he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "How fared the mission?"

Shepard opened her eyes and gave him a tired smile. "Pretty good. Found a credit chip in a couch. Went up against this big gunship with state-of-the-art shields. You should have seen it. The shields recharged instantly. Indestructible."

He quirked a brow at this. "How did you get past it?"

"We blew it up, naturally." She took a swig of her drink. "You should have seen the vault. There was some drell sculpture there, from Rakhana - not scavenger stuff either, but dug up from in an archeology salvage. I wanted to swipe it for you but Hock's goons jumped us." She scowled. "I had just hacked the security trigger on it too."

_That_ took him aback for a few moments. Sculpture from Rakhana? Such a thing would be beyond priceless... it could easily buy someone a small moon, if auctioned to the right people. And yet Shepard had merely wanted to claim it as a gift for him. The thought of selling it off and retiring on her own planetoid had never crossed her mind.

Gods, what wondrous creature had stolen his heart?

He shook his head, fighting down the merry laughter bubbling in his chest. "That was very thoughtful, siha. I appreciate your thinking of me."

She smirked, spearing a carrot on her fork. "Well, you can see it yourself later. The place was burning pretty well when we left and Kasumi and I doubled back to tag some things for transport to a storage unit on the Citadel once the officials arrived." She grinned at his stunned expression. "It's _amazing_ how many questions are dropped when people hear the words, 'I'm a Spectre.'"

He did chuckle at that, shaking his head in disbelief. "So, I take it your disguise passed scrutiny?"

"Oh yes," Kasumi interjected. "Turns out our Shepard here can be quite the social butterfly when she wants to be. She looked great. Smiling, joking, mingled really well. Everything went perfect until she tried to dance."

His frowned. "What?"

"It wasn't that bad..." Shepard sighed, but Kasumi cut her off.

"It was terrible. She threw the poor bastard around like a rag doll while stomping around on the dance floor. I thought he was going to lose his toupee."

"He was just a little shorter than me and was intimidated, so I had to move it along!" Shepard argued. "I had to get the last bit of ID to you so we could get into the vault when he asked for a dance. I didn't have time."

"Shepard, the man got _motion sickness._ We were lucky he went straight to the bathrooms or someone might have gotten suspicious."

"What?" repeated Thane. It'd been a long time since he'd felt so totally clueless. "Siha, what happened? I thought you had sufficient command of the dance before you left."

She nodded, grimacing at the fresh memory of her blunder. "I did - I _do._ The dance wasn't the problem."

"What was?"

She looked up and paralyzed him with those piercing blue eyes. Speaking softly so only he could hear, she said, "Finding the right partner."

For the first time in many long years, Thane wanted to dance for joy.

**XxXxX**

_(Before I hear anything about how awfully pretty Thane smells, let me say something. I figured that if humans scent their shampoo, then drell can do the same for their bathing sand. Frankincense and myrrh are fragrant resinous saps produced by trees that grow in dry, desert-like environs, so it only made sense that this would be a common scent for our dear drell. Also, frankincense is used a great deal in Catholic mass, and I thought that perfect for Thane. So... yeah. Odd little fangirlish note there, but... I put a lot of thought into it, lol. I have no life.)_


	2. And Death Shall Have No Dominion

_(Author's Note: Thane and Shepard's romance has a very tricky situation no one seems to want to talk about: If Thane's wife is waiting for him in the afterlife, what happens to his love for Shepard? How does this get reconciled? I couldn't find anyone that could provide an answer, so I set myself to the task of finding one. This is my solution to a problem that Thane/Shep shippers do their very best to avoid. In the end, I think it gives the characters some much needed peace - I hope you will agree.  
_

_Credit goes to LawGrad07 for her excellent and thoughtful ideas about drell physiology, body language, and vocal communication._

_The title comes from a poem of the same name written by Dylan Thomas.)_

**And Death Shall Have No Dominion**

You cannot choose who you fall in love with.

That's what Shepard told herself every time she stepped out of the elevator, as she headed to Life Support, a spring in her step and a smile on her face. You didn't just go out and find love, it found _you,_ often with extreme prejudice.

Time and time again, people found themselves declaring undying love for strange, even otherworldly partners. It was by no means a new phenomenon - every species had troves of literature about star-crossed lovers doomed to be exiled or worse for every racial and sociopolitical excuse in the book.

It happened plenty in real life as well, which probably explained the popularity of tragic love stories in the entertainment industry. No matter how stacked the odds, the most bizarre couples would find each other and gloriously launch a life together in spite of all conventional wisdom. It was shocking, really, how many human and turian couples sprang up after the First Contact War. Shepard had even seen a salarian and krogan once, though she wasn't sure if that had been a comedy or not - it _had_ been on a late-night program.

Over and over again, these unique and sometimes quirky relationships would form without rhyme nor reason. The galaxy at large had, more or less, ceased to be surprised by these odd combos, though the political clout of the asari may have hastened that viewpoint into wide acceptance. It was generally believed that love 'just happened' and everyone involved was only along for the ride.

Though all the races and cultures of the galaxy had many points of contention, they all appeared to be in agreement on one unspoken rule: You cannot choose who you fall in love with.

Falling in love with a dying man certainly gave truth to the maxim. Further, it proved that not even the remarkable Shepard was immune to the strange demands of the heart.

It had blind-sided her, love. But then, if all the stories out there had a grain of truth, that's the way it usually worked. Love was as stealthy and powerful as the man she had unwittingly fallen for.

There was no one moment that really made it happen. There was no _ding!_ and an announcer saying, "Congraaaatulations! You're in LOVE!" It happened gradually, suffusing every fiber of her being until she had what addicts call a moment of clarity.

One day, Shepard had looked up during lunch, saw Thane delicately petting her escape-artist hamster, and her heart tried to turn itself inside out. A warm, pleasant ache shot through her, so strong it made her lungs stutter in shock. She'd waved away everyone's concerned looks as she clutched her chest, tears in her eyes, trying to avoid his gaze. Her hands had trembled, groping for a glass of water, as she wrestled with one, startling thought: _Holy shit, I'm in love._

Romance had never really been of interest to her. Always a career type, she'd focused on following in her parents' footsteps. She'd signed up for the military on her eighteenth birthday and shipped out to boot the next week. After that, the military life swept her up in all its demands. Simply put, she didn't have _time_ for a romance. Kind as Liara was and amusing as Kaiden could be, she never once looked at them in a romantic light. Aside from the rule against fraternization (which was The Law as far as she was concerned and just made plain _sense_), she always saw them for what they were: A specialist and a soldier, parts of her team.

The mission came first in her eyes; the mission _always_ came first.

She'd had a few liaisons, of course - she wasn't _that_ naive. However, those usually ended disastrously or after one night, often in disappointment. Thus, she'd never really paid much attention to them.

War was easier than relationships.

That's probably why she fell in love with Thane, now that she thought about it. She had treated him just like all the others, as a member of her team, a pair of steady hands and sharp eyes to watch her six. So when he stopped being 'Krios' in her mind and started to become 'Thane' she didn't notice the difference such a subtle shift made.

By the time she did, it was already too late.

There was no real way to describe _why_ he fascinated her so much - he just did. He was interesting. He was _polite,_ a rarity itself in the galaxy and a quality she hadn't much chance to enjoy in others since she was surrounded by soldiers or politicians, who only grew more polite as they grew more vicious. Thane was well-spoken and sophisticated, as confident and controlled of his words as he was with his body. He knew so much, was so thoughtful and engaging that she could talk to him for hours and still be enthralled.

His ravishing voice was an extra bonus. For some reason she found him calming, as though an aura of peace surrounded him. It was incredibly refreshing to just sit and _talk_ like regular people, her eyelids heavy from the warmth of Life Support and the soothing rumble of his voice. Being near Thane was like a tranquilizer for her nerves and whenever she was particularly tense her feet would automatically take her to him.

After a while, she found her thoughts being drawn to him constantly as well.

It would happen as she passed through the markets on Omega and spotted a set of bells for sale; a grin came out of nowhere, the image of Thane with a bell around his neck clear in her mind's eye. (He'd seemed baffled by her gift, but accepted it gracefully.) Sometimes, when passing a restaurant the scent of powerful spices tickling her nose would bring him to mind, prompting Garrus to ask her what she was smiling about.

Often, she'd lay awake for hours at night, just thinking about him.

Anyone that had been in a relationship would have recognized the signs. Shepard, having avoided romantic entanglements through dedication to work, was blissfully ignorant until she caught herself wondering how far Thane's dark green stripes went down his back.

The thought came out of left field, right when they were talking about poetry (a secret pleasure her Commander image would never let the world know about) and made her turn such a deep shade of red that Thane had stopped in mid-sentence and asked if she was feeling well. She'd had to hurriedly excuse herself, claiming food poisoning.

That was when she had a sneaking suspicion something had changed.

She'd never considered herself to be attracted to other species. She could appreciate inter-species aesthetics of course but not once did this stir a powerful attraction in her. Sure, she could look at an asari super-model and admit she was pretty. Or a Fornax ad for their 'turian special edition' would flash garishly in Omega and she could agree that the turian was a fine specimen, but did that make her want to knock Garrus down on the spot? No, of course not.

Therefore, when she found herself wondering, more and more, what Thane's hands would feel like sliding against her bare back or what it would feel like to wrap her legs around his waist, she was totally caught off-guard. Sometimes it was all she could do to stop herself from snuggling up to him and pressing her ear to his chest, just wanting to hear what his voice sounded like this way. Soon, she found herself wondering what his kiss would taste like or if the pleats on his cheeks and throat were really silky smooth as they looked and-

And he was almost _forty!_ she reminded herself, blushing.

As if _that_ mattered to her hormones.

There was no denying it - every day, Thane looked sexier and more handsome, to the point where a simple smile from him would make her heart flutter like a schoolgirl. The image of herself as a schoolgirl was so wildly bizarre she coudn't even picture it.

Shortly after that, she'd started doing things that startled even _her._ Familiar things. Intimate things.

Things a CO would _never_ do.

Like the one time Grunt had, for reasons unknown, head-butted a turian through an ice-cream stand on the Citadel. The little stand exploded in a shower of sprinkles, pecans and, of course, ice-cream, liberally spraying everyone with sugary delight. Grunt bellowed a challenge, pedestrians started screaming, the salarian that owned the stand began jabbering away like a whistling kettle, and the unlucky turian was dazedly shouting something about pink elcor. It took one well-voiced roar from Shepard to silence the lot of them. Then she swung toward her youngest team member. The lightning in her eyes made even Grunt appear abruptly uncertain.

A few seconds later, Grunt was cleaning up the mess in total silence. The salarian started tending to the turian, who'd begun to mutter something about juggling hanar, and a single glare from Shepard sent the rubberneckers packing. Still muttering blackly, Shepard turned around, took one look at Thane and started giggling.

Even the turian looked amazed.

She couldn't help it - here was Thane, calm and composed as ever, feared assassin in every corner of the galaxy - and he was _covered_ with ice-cream. It might as well have been sunlight, the way he reacted to it. It oozed down his chest, melted into the crevices of his jacket and coated his head, totally obscuring his dark stripes.

He was even lightly sprinkled.

She couldn't stop herself. She started laughing so hard it made her sides ache. Thane bore this with utter calm, only a slight smile betraying the contagion of her mirth. After a while, she mastered herself and grinned at him. "I like this look for you," she said. "You should wear it more often."

Then her hand, without checking in with her _whatsoever,_ swiped a fingerful of ice cream off his cheek and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes closed in bliss. "Mmm. Mocha."

Opening her eyes, she saw Thane watching her with such intensity it made her heart skip a beat. She couldn't tear her eyes away as his fingers trailed down her cheek, coming away with a generous portion of ice cream. Miming her actions, he slowly put the delicious confection in his mouth.

That's how they discovered drell and milk-based products _don't mix._

No question about it, there was something about the composed, enigmatic assassin that put her just a little off-beat. Something about his story, his total openness to her questions and curiosity, bypassed all the armor she'd acquired as 'Commander' and struck true to the part of her that was Shepard. He disarmed her like no one else had managed. What made her secretly pleased was that she had the same effect on him. The stoic mask crumbled when she was near, his voice warming with shyness and delight at her simplest greeting.

He was also more open with her, discussing things long kept a secret burden, something even he mentioned once, and she found herself doing the same. Frustrations, doubts, personal troubles - she found these closely-guarded parts of herself being poured out before him. Always his words were a soothing balm, easing tension she'd never realized burdened her.

However, one secret she did not share with him. One worry, as recurring as the tide, now pushed to the forefront of her thoughts. It was as persistent as it was immutable: Thane was dying.

Before, she'd always managed to push it away. Life was too short to deny what happiness could be found and, unconventional their relationship may be, Thane gave her a peace she'd rarely known. Confidant, adviser, lover - he filled in all the blank spots of her soul. Despite all that happened, despite all their differences, they had figured it out.

And in less than a year it would all be ripped away.

After blowing the Collector base off the galactic map they had managed to forget this detail, losing their senses in one another. Rather than linger on the constant threat of death, they celebrated being alive - now, tomorrow, and in all the days left to them.

_Be alive with me tonight._

But death never went far.

She, of all people, should have known that best.

**xXxXx**

The dream broke when she was reading the dossier information Liara had mentioned. The data offered little use to her now, but she'd taken a look anyway, figuring there was nothing she could see that would change her dedication to her team. Long ago, she'd learned to never turn down valuable information.

What she found was evidence of a different kind of Reaper.

_Siha,_

_I write this with a heavy hand..._

Shepard stared at the screen for a long time, even through vision so blurred the world had turned to a mass of formless colors. The words hadn't left, though; they were seared into her mind, visible even when she closed her eyes.

_I am dying, Siha._

A pain sharper than any blade sliced through her chest, startling her lungs into work, drawing in air for the first time in minutes with a slight gasp.

"Shepard?" Liara's voice, usually a welcome sound, grated on Shepard's skin like an iron file. "Are you okay?"

She quickly closed out the dossier information and turned away. The airlock wasn't far - she could retreat quickly, avoiding Liara's scrutiny. "I'm fine. I just got an urgent message from Hackett about a batarian outpost. I have to go." With her customary brisk stride, she headed for the airlock, wanting nothing more than to _get out _of that damn room.

If Liara said anything else, Shepard missed it entirely. She couldn't stop going over that letter, her mind cruelly replaying it in Thane's voice. By now she knew the intricacies of his voice well enough to fill in all the details - the dip in his voice at the mention of Irikah, the fond warmth as he praised her.

_You awoke me, Shepard._

Her heart clenched painfully, making her stumble. Pressing one hand against the wall, the other rubbing at her chest, she watched with distant fascination as tears pattered on the floor at her feet. She could barely remember the last time she'd cried. The memory felt distant, like it had happened in another life.

Which, come to think of it, it had.

Shaking away the dim memories of an old regret, Shepard strode into the airlock. The rush of equalizing air pressure buffeted her and for once, she was grateful for it. The gust did what she couldn't, momentarily erasing the tears slowly sliding down her cheeks.

She walked quickly, focused simply on getting to her cabin where her shame could not be witnessed. Kelly's cheerful voice didn't even register as she swept past into the elevator.

"Commander's Cabin," she said, and the lift began to move. For a moment, she didn't recognize the reflection in the elevator doors. Fear haunted the stranger's eyes; desperation deepened the hollows of her face. She looked vulnerable, ragged. Like she was about to break.

Shepard looked away.

When the doors opened on the top level, she stepped into her cabin and just stopped.

Her only thought had been to get to her quarters. Now she didn't know what to do. The tears were there still, starting to slowly creep down her cheeks. It felt hard to breathe.

She still felt curiously calm. Others had called her stoic before and it fit her well enough. It wasn't a personal choice, just a professional one. Morale could make or break an army and nothing hurts morale worse than a commanding officer losing all composure. Shepard knew her emotional control was incredible; she'd held strong in situations that would make admirals wither, hadn't let an eyelash quiver at the bodies of slaughtered innocents.

But as her hands began to tremble, she knew this battle had already been lost. It was just a matter of time until her control buckled. Sorrow had caught up to her at last.

Every heartbeat throbbed with a pain she'd never felt before, didn't know how to combat. That confused her: As a soldier, she was on familiar terms with pain, had learned how to conquer it long ago. Pain was an old comrade, annoying but familiar, sometimes even useful.

But not this time. This pain coiled around her heart and tightened with every beat, squeezing until something had to burst. The pressure was unbearable, threatening to shred her apart when it all just... let go...

_I love you. If all else whispers back into the tide, know this for fact._

The sudden voice - unmistakably Thane's - made her jump, eyes darting over her shoulder. Her heart pounded in her ears, quickened by joy and a sudden, inexplicable terror.

No one was there.

Just her mind playing tricks on her.

Shepard took two steps into her room and stopped as her eyes fell on her bed, sheets folded with military precision. A lot of memories, there. Many nights had been spent here with Thane, often with an ear pressed to his chest and smiling contentedly as he recited poetry for her. How she never wanted those nights to end...

_I will await you across the sea._

A harsh sob barked from her lips and she clapped one hand against her mouth, startled by the sound. The room swayed and she leaned on the partition wall by her terminal and models. Numbly, she wiped her hand across her cheek and stared as it came away glistening with tears. Would they ever end?

The iron dam of her control began to break, threatening to take her along with it.

Self-mastery was everything to Shepard - in a way, she and Thane weren't all that different. Absolute control of her body made her a fearsome killing machine in battle. Control of her team made them efficient and deadly, stronger by tenfold together than they would be alone. Control shaped her, molded her, defined who she'd become. Nobody saw any part of her that she didn't want them to see.

Absolute mastery. Absolute control. That was her strength.

And now it was gone.

Thane's inevitable death had long been a knife in her back, an open wound she couldn't touch. And now the infection had caught up to her. Just as well, she supposed - a wound must bleed before it can heal.

But God, it _hurt._

Slowly, she slid down the wall and fell to her knees, silent sobs wracking her body as that one line echoed over and over in her mind. The dam had broken, unleashing a tumult of grief, anger, and bitter fear.

It all seemed horribly _broken,_ this relationship, this love. They were two people moving in opposite directions: She was coming back from death and he was going toward it. It was like their love had never been intended, a freak accident that fate had not accounted for.

But... she hadn't meant for it to happen. You can't choose who you fall in love with. All the races of the galaxy agreed on at least that one thing, so it had to be true.

Right?

_I will await you across the sea._

Her fist slammed against the wall and something cracked.

Goddammit it wasn't _fair!_ All this fighting, all this senseless death and sacrifice - what was it all for? What was the point if she couldn't save the one person she loved most? _What did I do to deserve this!?_

She didn't realize she been shouting until EDI's avatar sprang to life.

"Commander, I detected elevated stress patterns in your voice. Do you require assistance?"

Shepard panted for breath, curled over on her knees and fingernails digging against the throbbing in her skull. Tears soaked the thin carpet. A thousand responses screamed through her mind as the silence in the cabin grew heavy.

"Logging you out, Shepard."

She barely noticed EDI withdrawing. That letter kept playing over and over in her head, echoes clashing and twisting until it just became Thane's voice repeating, _"I love you."_

Then a thought clawed its way to the surface and struck at her sense of justice.

_It isn't fair, dammit, but he could be happy after... after. He deserves all that I can give, doesn't he? He deserves to be happy. What about Irikah? Would I deny him that happiness of finally reuniting with her, make him wait for _me_? Would I make him choose between his wife or me, who he's only known for a few months?_

"No," she whispered. "No, that isn't right. There's someone waiting for him already. Why should I take that away?"

It didn't matter that she'd never been a religious type - death changes your perspective on things.

Death changes _everything._

She couldn't remember anything about her death but sometimes her dreams were strangely vivid.

_Stars. Drifting in an ocean of stars..._

Having a Catholic mother growing up had influenced Shepard in a subtle way. While not a church-going, bible-thumping practitioner, a deep current of quiet faith ran through her. It was almost impossible not to believe, after the things she'd been through. The thought of her selfishness poisoning another's just reward left a bitter taste in her mouth.

She wouldn't let that happen.

Dragging in deep, ragged breaths, Shepard fought for control. Her mind raced, seeking out answers to fix this horrible injustice. It was reflex and she knew it but it felt comfortable, familiar; she was forever solving the countless wrongs that crossed her path.

She could fix this.

If only the tears would stop, she could fix this.

**xXxXx**

When Shepard stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, face washed and raw, she found Thane waiting for her. She hadn't heard him enter - but then, she never expected to.

She stared at him as he stepped forward to touched her tear-scarred cheek, trying to imprint every facet of him indelibly in her mind. God, he was incredible, to hell what purists said. Her eyes roamed over him, lingering on the exotic black lining his eyes and getting lost in the hint of glittering emerald green irises. His lips were moving and she recognized the low rumble that always made her weak at the knees but his words were lost on her. The only thing that registered was that twisting pain around her heart and overwhelming relief that he was alive.

Still here.

Still hers.

After a while, she realized he was expecting an answer. His words hadn't made sense yet but he looked worried.

Without thinking, she stepped forward and hugged him, holding him tightly as she buried her face in the sweet spot at the base of his neck and shoulder. For a split second he stiffened against her, then relaxed and returned the embrace. A long life of isolation made physical contact a strange new item to him. In respect of this, she did her best to instigate touch carefully as he gradually became more comfortable with it. This time, however, she couldn't stop herself. She needed to feel him against her, needed to hold onto him, needed to breathe in the exotic spicy scent of him.

She could feel his heart beating and - inexplicably - it made hers break.

The life-giving rhythm and his soothing hum began to calm her down. With Thane in her arms, the looming specter of his death seemed distant. The scattered remnants of her composure rallied together. The trembling in her hands slowly tapered off as her resolve hardened. Gradually, the world started to make sense again, her tangled, warring thoughts smoothing out as though eased into place by the gentle hand stroking her hair.

She had to do this. Now, while she still had the time and strength to see it through. Thane always made her feel stronger, his presence itself lending her a confidence only she knew had been absent before. It was just another cruel, sick joke that she had to use that very strength to drive them apart.

Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought and she drew back from him enough to see his face. Worry weighed down his brow, casting shadows over his dark eyes. His lips parted in surprise and his thumb wiped across her cheek. The tears had come back. Thane's expression went from astonishment to concern - alarm, even - in an instant.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he demanded. "Are you hur-"

She stopped him with a kiss.

They had practiced kissing a great deal for some time now but this one felt different. It was soft, almost timid, the way they came together, like new lovers taking first, uncertain steps together. The passion grew as the kiss slowly deepened until all she knew was the exotic taste of him, the euphoric rush his intimate address always gave her. It felt like their first kiss, what seemed a lifetime ago. It felt like saying hello.

Or goodbye.

When they parted they were both short of breath. Thane's eyes were barely open as he drew in quick, soft breathes through parted lips. Shepard gave him one more soft kiss, like a signature, then pressed her brow against his. Already she was repeating it over in her mind to keep it there forever. It would be their last one, after all.

"I love you," she whispered.

Thane had always been quiet in terms of facial expression, but when he smiled - really _smiled_ - he practically glowed. It was a rare sight, one she counted as her greatest achievement and treasure. She drank this one in hungrily, trying to fix every detail in her memory.

"And I love you," he purred. Literally purred - she could feel a deep resonance in his chest, a part of his voice that shot far below her hearing. A hand came up to caress her face, stroking away tears she didn't bother to check. "What troubles you, siha?"

"I-" Her throat closed, choking out her voice. This newest betrayal of her body left her staring at him helplessly. Finally, she spoke in a small voice. "It really sucks having to make big decisions, you know?"

He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "And yet there's no one I would trust to make such decisions than you, siha. You always make the best decision in the worst plights."

His words stabbed her like a knife, twisting in her heart. Oh God, the irony! She shuddered and his concern swiftly returned.

"Are you sick, Shepard? You keep shivering."

"No, I'm fine. It's just-" Her voice broke and when she put it back together she didn't recognize it. "It's been a really bad day."

Thane nodded then suddenly stepped away from her and led her over to her bed. Gently seating her at the foot of her bed, he sat down next to her, eyes attentive on her as their hands twined together. "Tell me of your day, siha. Perhaps I can unburden you."

A watery laugh escaped her, sending a few more tears running down her face which he gently wiped away. Taking his face in her hands she lightly ran her palms down his red cheeks, fingers tracing the face she loved.

"Oh God, Thane, I don't know how it happened. I never expected love, you know that? It just wasn't in the game plan. It was like another item on a list of stuff to do. Go to this planet, thwart that plan, save the galaxy, retire with a chest full of medals. _Then_ fall in love."

Her fluttering smile worried him and she knew how horrible it must look. Gripping his hands tightly, she lifted them to place a kiss on each finger. "You turned it all around. I never realized how much I was missing until I found you. There's this quote someone wrote down a long time ago, I don't know where from. It's something like, 'When I first saw you, my soul said, 'Oh, there you are. I've been looking for you.' I always thought that sounded ridiculous, you know? Something teenagers sigh about. Then it happened to me."

Absently, she traced one of the dark lines on his face, feeling strangely calm now that the moment was at hand. "I think I first started loving you when you bowed to EDI that first day on the ship. Isn't that funny? I started noticing things I'd missed before. How beautiful the nebula really are, how good food tasted. Music changed, like I'd never heard a note before. After Cerberus put me back together, I didn't even care about those things anymore. I'd shut out everything, just focused on duty. It was easier to keep going that way, day after day; easier to be a machine than a person. I only thought about the next mission, the latest reports. Anything else just... didn't seem to matter as much anymore. And then you changed all that."

Her voice grew hushed as secrets whispered out of her soul. Something flickered deep in Thane's eyes, something new and heart-breaking. She focused on his hands, held so tightly in her own. It terrified her to realize she'd eventually have to let him go.

"You've given me the greatest happiness of my life, Thane. But there's a war coming and I can't shake this feeling that it's going to kill me."

Thane opened his mouth, brows already coming down in protest, but her fingertips stopped his lips. "Shh, I know. It's strange to say it but every day that passes, I have to admit, it doesn't seem like such a bad way to go. This, all this, it's wearing me out, Thane. One person wasn't meant to do all things I've done. All the things I have to do still."

She shrugged helplessly. "I'm burning up, Thane. You gave me this one moment of brightness in my life and I will always treasure it. I know it doesn't seem fair-" Her voice broke again and his hands tightened on hers. Once again she pressed her lips to his hands, trying to convey a depth words just couldn't find.

"I know it doesn't seem fair," she said, voice rough. "That we found each other with such little time left for both of us. But I don't regret it my love, not one bit. I'm just thankful I could have this before the end. You gave me a purpose to keep fighting. You made me realize the wonders in life."

His face blurred in her vision but she knew it so well she didn't have to see. She lovingly caressed his face as she had done that first night together.

"Thank you, Thane, for waking me up."

Earlier, she'd silently promised that their previous kiss would be their last. Too much pleasure from him and she knew her vow would crumble. So no more romance. No more long nights together under the stars. No more poems so she could listen to that amazing voice. No more touching, or caressing, or snuggling up after a hard day. Definitely no more kissing.

Thane, however, had made no such vow.

For the second time that night, she was swept up in the kind of kiss that inspires songs and saccharine poetry. His lips pressed against hers with desperate, hungry need, as if this would be their one last kiss before dying. She didn't try to stop him - indeed, the thought to do so shorted out halfway through forming as he deepened the kiss and a wave of crystalline music washed over her.

Auditory hallucination - a rarer side-effect and one she loved the most. The murmur of the fish tank became a soft choir. Thane's heartbeat turned into gentle rolls of percussive thunder. The pervasive hum of the FTL drive became the long, hushed tones of strings.

The music began to quicken as the kiss drew out, a familiar prelude to a more passionate engagement. Every movement of their bodies added to the rising song in her mind, keyed to the caresses and movements of her lover. Flutes trilled as a hand traced down her spine, sending fire through her veins. Trumpets rang out in clarion peals as his fingers momentarily flicked across the skin of her waist.

It was too much - every soft movement of his lips was like an orbital strike on her will. If she didn't stop him now, her tenuous control would crumble and she'd think of nothing more than to make all kinds of music with him.

Pressing her hands against his chest, she gently pushed against him until he pulled away slightly. They stayed that way for a moment, faces almost touching, warm breath fluttering on each others cheek as they tried to catch their breath. Shepard tried to get her thoughts in order but the music kept distracting her.

After a while, Thane drew her against him, gently tucking her head under his chin. The low, buzzing hum from earlier once more reverberated somewhere deep in his chest, coiling through her entire body until it felt like every fiber of her resonated with it. It was one of the simplest, purest forms of communication drell were capable of, their vocal ranges far greater than any known species. Drell tonal inflections were like human body language, adding a layer of non-verbalized meaning to a conversation that could convey a range of emotion, from anger to fear to joy.

This one meant none of those. This one he used just for her.

"I love you too," she whispered.

The buzz intensified, the actual sound far too low for her to hear. She loved it when he did this and took her time to savor her last time feeling it completely enfold her.

"Thane, I want you to promise me something," she said after several minutes.

"Anything, my love." His voice had a dreamy, echoing quality to it from the subsonic hum. If it were possible, she thought it made him sound even sexier - a fact her hormones stridently demanded she pay attention to. Instead, she clubbed her hormones into obedience and took a deep breath.

If given the choice of continuing or performing open heart surgery on herself, she would have gone for the scalpel. No hesitation, no anesthetic. It would be far less painful and at least she'd actually see that her heart wasn't being crushed.

"When you..." her voice broke and she closed her eyes. _God, I don't want to do this._ "When you leave this life... when you wake up on the seashore... promise me that when Irikah finds you there, you won't spend another second thinking about me."

The hum stopped.

"Siha..."

She pushed away enough to see his shocked eyes, stopping his words with gentle fingertips pressed to his lips. "I've had time to think about this, Thane. Humans take a vow when we marry and part of it is 'til death do us part.' That never really seemed fair to me, though. I think it's possible to love more than one person. But be _in_ love? That happens only once. I know how much Irikah has done for you, what she means to you, and I'd be the worst kind of person to stand in the way that."

Smiling, she stroked his face, tracing the lines and patterns she'd come to memorize and love. "Actually, I've been horribly selfish and insensitive to put you in this situation. I didn't mean to do it, Thane. But it's true what they say - you can't chose who you fall in love with."

Thane, ever quiet, ever stoic, did nothing but wipe a tear from her face. This time she didn't bother to stop them. This time she knew - after tonight, they would never stop.

"I'm so sorry for doing this to you, Thane. I always think ahead, I always consider the consequences of my actions, but this one time I didn't. I didn't and now it's going to hurt the person I love most. But at least I can fix it before it's too late. So I want you to promise me that you'll be happy with her; that you'll forget all about me."

"That's impossible, siha." His voice was rough. "Even if I could, nothing could erase you from my thoughts. Not even death." One hand cupped her face and her own hand covered his on instinct. "But I cannot make this promise, love."

Unbidden, she gripped his hand tightly. "Thane, please. For _my_ peace of mind. Your whole life has been nothing but sacrifice. When you get down to it, the Compact is the sacrifice of a few for the betterment of all your people - and you were one of that number. Your life was shaped beyond your will. Your family was destroyed by enemies your employer made. There is someone waiting for you at the shore, Thane." She kissed his hand gently. "Don't betray that. I want you to be happy. If nothing else, let me know that you'll be happy on the other side."

Scales, silky and deceptively warm, soothed across her skin as he cupped her face in both hands. "You are incredible, Shepard." His voice was soft, soothing. "Ever you put the welfare of others before your own. If Arashu deemed one siha enough for the galaxy, I've no doubt that you are the one, and more than fit for the task."

The warmth of his touch shifted, tipping her chin up for their eyes to meet. "But you misunderstand. I cannot make this promise because it is not mine to make."

Confusion furrowed her brow. A lump in her throat was choking her, blocking all the questions and rationalizations trying to get out. Probably just as well - the heart knew when to keep quiet when the mind wanted to scream. She listened to her body's wisdom.

"Thane?"

"Irikah was not a jealous woman, siha. But she opened my eyes to what it meant to take responsibility for my actions. Once she was taken from me, I lost that wisdom. I fell back into my battle sleep. She left our family in my trust and I abandoned it. I thought only of myself and my own revenge, killing slowly, wantonly. When I came back, my son was estranged from me, slipping into the same darkness that had claimed me. I betrayed her, siha. I betrayed all she gave me."

He shook his head, shame and sorrow making him look old for the first time in her eyes.

"I feel it in my heart but more than that I know it in my soul: Irikah would not forgive me. Nor would I want her to. Some things are not for others to forgive, but for one to atone for. Even if Irikah were to pardon me, I would not deserve it and we would both know it."

He stopped Shepard's protests the same way she had silenced him, with a light touch to her lips. "It is true, siha. Irikah would not have me back and I would not blame her. Forgiveness is cheap when it has lost its meaning and by that point it is not worth giving. Humans have a saying, 'your money's no good when your coffin lid is on.' The same is true with mercy after death. Forgiveness is for the living. It enables us to overcome our guilt so we may excel where before we failed. There is no forgiveness after death - only judgement. I've atoned all I can but nothing I can do would remove the stain I earned when I betrayed my family.

"So you see, my love, I cannot make this promise. I am happy already because of you and I will be after my body's death. It will be good to see her again but what we had, I willfully lost. Humans believe in punishment or reward after death, determined by the actions made in life. Irikah's loss is my punishment and I will not object. I have bought it, paid for it in blood."

He smiled, a small and strained thing but it coaxed a matching one from her - it always did. "You, my love - you are my reward. I am humbled that you would think so much upon our fate in the next life. That you would sacrifice your love for my happiness has shamed me. But I will not let you go. I will be awaiting you, love. Nothing will change that."

New tears drew silvery paths down her face at his words, but these tasted sweeter. The crushing pain around her heart had loosened, making it feel like her chest was full of air instead of lead.

"Is there anything I can say to convince you?" she said.

"Nothing," he assured. "Nothing in existence could change my mind."

A smile, a real one, fluttered at her lips, one that he answered. With a sigh of pure contentment, she slipped back into his embrace. It felt wonderfully good, like finally coming home from war.

"Does it make me an evil person to be grateful about this?" she murmured after a long time.

A kiss on her hair - she fancied she could feel his smile. "Of course not."

"Good." Her voice came out strained and child-like, but she didn't care. "Because I want you to promise me something else. Promise me that you won't leave. That you'll never leave me. Okay?"

"Of course, siha." He smiled, rested his cheek on her hair and closed his eyes. "I will always be with you."

**xXxXx**

Over time, many philosophers have come to describe love as a force of nature. Like time, gravity and the expanding void between stars, it is known but little understood. Like an iceberg, a small part of it can be seen from the outside but complex and intricate designs are hidden far below. Like dreams, it could be witnessed and experienced by all but it could not be measured or anticipated.

It defied logic. It defied reason. It defied every natural law, especially one in particular.

Though the races of the galaxy had many points of contention, they all agreed on at least one thing:

Love is greater than death.

It always has been.


	3. Prompt Exchange: Solipsism

_(Author's Note: This was written for the One-word Prompt Exchange by Unattainable Dreams. I was at a huge anime convention for the majority of writing this, so forgive some oddities, but I hope you find it enjoyable I couldn't have asked for a better prompt and just _HAD_ to write it for Mass Effect._

_Solipsism is the philosophy/perception that your individual mind/awareness is the only thing that truly exists. Thane uses it to describe the perfect flashbacks drell have. Knowing people would immediately think of this, I decided to turn that preconception on its head, in two distinct ways. You'll see what I mean by the end.)_

**One-word Prompt Exchange: Solipsism**

Shepard lay awake in her bed, staring up at the stars through the window above her. All the lights in her quarters were off, even the blue glow of the fish tank. In the dark, it was easy to remember better things, happier times. Absent friends.

Thessia had fallen.

The defeat had shaken everyone, Shepard included, like nothing else before. Everyone went about their duties in a state of numbed shock. The crew wafted through the corridors like ghosts, voices barely raised above a whisper. Their eyes followed her, haunted and wide, expecting her to do something to turn it all around.

Shepard let them stare - she knew she should say something to them, rally their spirits, bolster their courage. But there weren't many speeches left in her, these days. Every time circumstances demanded she make one she couldn't help but think how good she'd gotten at making eulogies on the spot.

All she wanted to do was sleep and never wake up. Her dreams had taken a dark turn of late. Every night she woke up screaming, pistol in hand. Nights like those were every bit as bad as a day on the battlefield.

Last night - no, that wasn't right, she been awake for at least 30 hours. Last time she slept, the dream had been different. She woke up with tears soaking her pillow, hands reaching out recapture something she'd lost. She'd been in the forest again, racing toward the one thing she wanted most, that had been her reason for not giving up.

But she could never move fast enough in her dreams. Shrouded in sibilant darkness, the only thing she could do was scream silently, reaching, desperately grasping at his retreating back...

She'd been reaching toward the empty side of the bed. The side where Thane had slept. The side that was still 'his' somehow.

Not that it mattered anymore. He would never come back.

The stars blurred in her vision. Using a corner of the sheet, she wiped the tears away. So damn strange how easily that happened these days. For the first time in her life, tears came with total ease. They hadn't come until weeks after surviving the Skyllian Blitz. Even when she'd left a good soldier to die on Virmire, even though she sat in her quarters and _willed_ the tears to come and wash away the guilt, they wouldn't fall.

Now a stray thought could make them stream down her face without warning. Maybe it was a sign of how damaged she was. Cerberus had made a lot of upgrades to her when they stitched her back together - maybe all the stress, the burden of an entire galaxy, was wearing her out faster than any cybernetics could repair.

"Maybe I'm not even real," she said softly. "Maybe I'm indoctrinated and this is the nightmare they're putting me through to break my mind. Maybe this is all just a dream."

The stars glimmered, cold and beautiful. If they had any answers, they weren't sharing.

Shepard found herself in that highly ironic position of being too tired to sleep. Just as well, really - this was the only time she could just sit down and just... be.

It was easier to remember in the dark. If you let your mind slip enough, you could almost smell...

_...Frankincense and myrrh. The subtle scents clung to his skin, mysterious and wonderful. It took an effort of will to not tuck her nose against the red folds of his throat, the epicenter of his scent, and just breathe._

_She glanced at Kasumi. The slight thief was showing Thane a recording of waltzing couples on her omni-tool. Thane was watching avidly._

_Taking her opening, Shepard leaned forward a bit and took a circumspect whiff. She also enjoyed how different breathing felt pressed up against him. Incredible._

_She never would have stumbled upon this new and delightful facet of Thane if Kasumi hadn't _insisted_ that she learn the waltz for infiltrating Hock's party. And it had been pure luck that Thane had walked in when he did. Now she was pressed against him from chest to hip and only at this proximity could she detect that faint scent of frankincense and myrrh._

_Her mother, a life-long Catholic, often burned the two resins on certain holidays. Very few candles or incense were burned on a ship, the consumption of priceless oxygen strictly regulating everything of the sort, including cigarettes. But her mother always paid the fine. It had been so long since she had caught that old, familiar aroma._

_It reminded her of home._

_Smothering a smile, she made a note to thank Kasumi later._

Shepard smiled as the memory faded. She never had gotten around to thanking Kasumi for that. Once in the elevator, Thane had kissed her and that had kept her distracted for a long time. It was the first time she'd ever seen his control slip - not that she was complaining. It had been a memorable step in their relationship.

Glancing to the left, her eyes stared blindly into a patch of shadow by her bed. The starlight wasn't enough to let her see anything but she knew this room perfectly. Memory guided her hand toward the familiar, long-abandoned black and white mug on the nightstand.

She never used it for drinking. It held nothing but dust.

The ceramic felt so very cold.

Lifting it to her face, she gently breathed in the faint but pungent scent of tea - soon it would fade altogether. Her lips gently brushed the rim and she could almost taste the distant flavor...

_...of sweet, earthy herbs, reminding her of curry somehow, with a slightly citrusy aftertaste. She blinked at the orange tea in equal amounts of surprise and recognition. Her mother always made ceylon tea for her when she was sick, growing up._

_"Do you like it?" asked Thane. He'd been tickled when she'd asked to sample his favorite drink. An electronic gadget he called a tea infuser made its new home by her model ship collection, conveniently close to the tap in the bathroom. It'd been niggling at her curiosity for days._

_"It's delicious!" She took another appreciative slurp to prove it. His face lit up, pleased - at least, to her eyes he did. Thane expressed himself quietly, in ways most people would miss. He reached for the cup only to find her back turned to him as she walked away - with his mug._

_"Mmm, very good," she said, taking another slurp. Picking up a datapad on her desk, she idly scrolled through the contents. It was hard, so hard, to not smirk at the stunned silence behind her._

_Acting as though she did this every day, she turned around and leaned against her desk. Only another soft slurp and appreciative hum broke the silence._

_"Siha."_

_A giggle nearly escaped her at the touch of reproof he managed to pack into such a short word._

_"Hmmm?" Shhhhhllllluuuurp._

_"You took my tea cup."_

_More giggles joined the first, clamoring to be loosed. She pushed them down with another sip._

_"And what are you going to do about that?"_

_A dignified, deeply reproving silence answered her. The muscles in her neck tensed as she fought to urge to look up at him. Teasing him like this was too much fun! A few more pages on the safe use of weapons upgrades - heh, irony - flicked by under her thumb to maintain her nonchalant image. She hadn't read a single word despite all her concentration being stubbornly focused on the screen._

_Several more seconds ticked by. He hadn't left; there was only the one door and it was impossible to open it in total silence. Was he just standing over there, glowering at her? Maybe she should niggle him with another sip._

_She raised the mug to her lips to do just that when a familiar hand stopped it halfway. Her eyes snapped up and were caught by Thane's._

_He was standing very, very close._

_She hadn't heard him move. Mice moved in parades compared to Thane._

_Her heart started working overtime as he moved nearer, his hand slowly pressing down and guiding the mug toward the desk top. The lower the mug went, the closer he came. She had to bite her bottom lip to hold back the sounds his agonizingly slow approach was making in her._

_The mug touched down in perfect silence._

_Thane's deliciously warm, firm body pressed up against her completely, lightly pinning her against the desk. It felt sinfully good. A thin moan escaped her as his weight settled against her, a sound she only made for him. It was so soft, she didn't even realize it had slipped from her until he smirked._

_He'd heard it anyway._

_She couldn't look away as he leaned closer, utterly hypnotized by the searing heat in those eyes. Her own eyes fluttered shut as the heat of him brushed against her lips, her body trembling in desire and anticipation of -_

_The loud slurp of tea just an inch away made her jump._

_Her eyes snapped open just in time to see Thane hide the most smug, satisfied smile she'd ever seen behind another sip from his purloined tea cup. Then he breezed away, leaving her sagging against her desk, hot and bothered and totally unable to do anything about it._

_She stared at his back, flabbergasted. Her eyes narrowed at his retreating back, a small smile on her face._

_Tease her like that would he?_

_Two could play this game..._

Warm laughter bubbled out of her as the memory grew fuzzy and faded. The 'flirt war' that followed her tea-theft had been inspired a great deal of creativity, a take-no-prisoners attitude, and an increased demand for Mordin's anti-itch skin cream.

That had been the best month of her life. She smiled, stroking the now warm ceramic mug. Their little flirt war had filled the many hours between some nondescript missions they were mopping up after they'd finished the Collectors. Even though their mission had been complete, all obligations officially fulfilled, no one had asked to leave the Normandy. Even then, amidst the post-victory cheer, it was as if they'd known the job wasn't done.

Soldiers know. Generals and politicians may bluster about victory and peace and safety, but the soldiers always know what's really going on.

The war was just beginning.

Now no amount of pomp and bullshit could make all those generals and politicians keep their head in the sand. The Reapers had come and here she was scrambling about the galaxy in a desperate attempt to get the galaxy ready to fight back and end the Reapers once and for all. She was doing _now_ what the damn Council should have been doing six months ago. Instead, they sat on their asses, piddling away their precious time while they put _her_ on trial.

300,000 batarian lives and six months gone, wasted, while they bitched about war crimes! Time they could have been using to build dreadnoughts and carriers! Time they should have used to hunt down Cereberus! Precious time she could have spent with Thane, allow her to be at his side when the Kepral's worsened, to spend every day together and treasure what happiness they could find as the doomsday clock reached midnight...

But no. Instead the Council did nothing but accuse her of racism, insanity and worse, dooming her and Thane to sit in their individual cells lightyears away and wait for death to come.

It served them right, the bastards - now they knew what it felt like to sit under that Damocles Sword of inevitable doom. Now _they_ felt the horrible, breathless fear of desperately wanting, futilely praying for just a little more _time._

Dammit, she should've let that bastard salarian eat Kai Leng's sword. She should never have let Thane get involved, dammit all, she should've made a different call, she didn't owe the Council a damn thing and after all they deserved what they got, they'd _robbed_ her and Thane of those last few months and she shouldn't have to save them at the price of the man she loved-

_Tink!_

The light, crinkling sound of cracking ceramic snapped Shepard out of her brooding fury.

In her silent, growing rage her grip on the mug had tightened, slowly putting on more pressure until the ceramic had started to crack. A long, ugly line jagged out from underneath her thumb.

Panic raced through her like a cold flood. She sat bolt upright, lightly rubbing her fingers over the crack as if she could wipe it away. "Oh God, no no no! Please no, I'm sorry, please don't take it, please," she chanted, barely whispering. She squeezed her eyes shut, chanting over and over again a frantic prayer. "Please, please, _please!"_

After a moment, her calm came back. It was always coming slower these days. Opening her eyes, she inspected the crack nervously.

It was superficial - a break in the glaze but no deeper. It could likely still hold water without leaking. Lifting it to her nose, she took a deep breath - and yes, there was the faint scent of tea still.

Only then did she relax. It took both hands to return it to the table - her hands were trembling from adrenaline still.

"Stupid, Shepard," she muttered, lying back down. "Stupid to let that happen. You can't afford any mistakes. Remember what he said? You have-"

_"-to focus, siha."_

_Shepard started at the use of 'her' word - she'd been spacing out as he described meditative technique and she hadn't been hiding it as well as she thought._

_"I'm listening," she said, vaguely defensive._

_All he did was gaze at her calmly, brows rising a twitch._

_Sitting up straight, she rose to his silent challenge. "You were talking about breathing patterns and how mastering them improves awareness and control." She smiled at him, a little 'take that' in it._

_The brows twitched a little higher still. "That was five minutes ago, Shepard."_

_Oh. Her bubble of satisfaction deflated a little._

_"I..." she began, thoughts racing for an excuse. "I got nothing."_

_Now the corners of his lips twitched up with his brow. "I know."_

_She glared at him but it was half-hearted - he'd caught her fair and square and his smirk told her he knew it. "Alright, sorry. Start again."_

_Giving her a lightly admonishing look, he cleared his throat and started over. "To begin meditating, you must first clear your mind of everything, shut out all distractions. Focus on your heartbeat and breathing, shutting out all else until you've achieved absolute stillness of the mind."_

_And that's when Shepard mentally checked out. Again._

_Outwardly, her eyes were alert and attentive and she nodded now and then. The words went in through one ear and out the other. She didn't mean to do it - when she'd asked Thane if he wouldn't mind giving her a quick lesson in meditation, it had been from genuine interest. The practice was an integral part of Thane's character and thus something that had never interested her in the slightest before now piqued her curiosity._

_When he agreed to teach her, she'd felt a small thrill of excitement. Part of her kept thinking of it as their first 'date.' _

_Thus the irony was not lost on her that now she she was here, she couldn't focus. That was a bad thing because apparently meditation required lots of focus - she didn't know _why_, just that it did. Her mind kept drifting away after that part._

_The reason she couldn't focus was, ironically, Thane._

_Part of it was his voice she thought, nodding as he described... something. Deep and resonant, his voice never failed to render her utterly boneless. Combined with the warmth of Life Support, it was all she could do to not snuggle up against him and just drowse. And she owed more to the lethargy for that than her willpower._

_Then there was everything else about him. She just couldn't stop staring._

_Still nodding, her gaze wandered appreciatively across his face, stopping to ogle the exotic black around his eyes. Then her eyes slid down to his lips which were still moving and made them all the more entrancing to watch. After a while her attention wandered down to his throat and not for the first time she wondered what those red folds felt like. Soft? Smooth? Thinking about it made her fingers itch._

_"Uh huh," she said, eyes dropping farther. Was it drell in general or just Thane that wore clothes designed to expose a tantalizing amount of the chest? Not that she was complaining, mind you, but it was by far the most distracting thing about him. Just enough was showing to expose a slight crease of muscle, a frustratingly vague detail her brain cheerfully decided to fixate on. Did drell even have muscle structure similar to humans? Maybe it wasn't even muscle - the only way to be sure would be to do some research (she had no idea where to begin and asking Mordin was _not an option)_ or to see more for... context._

_"-not listening, are you?"_

_Her eyes snapped up guiltily, hoping he hadn't noticed her glowering at the zipper of his vest._

_"Huh?"_

Stars slowly filled her vision as the memory dissipated. A small smile curved her lips as she relived the moment. She never had been much for meditation but eventually got the hang of it. Thane had said meditation was practically a necessity for drell due to their perfect memory. It made it easier for them to organize the wealth of memories, providing greater control to keep the solipsistic episodes in check - or grant better access to them.

An amused huff escaped Shepard. She'd witnessed Thane in plenty of solipsistic flashbacks - she wondered what he'd think if he saw her doing the same.

"He'd probably be honored," she whispered. "And disappointed. What did you call it, Thane? _Tu'fira_ - lost in another." She smiled, not at all bitter, but sad and wistful. "That pretty well describes me, doesn't it? It isn't your fault, though. I chose this. It feels like you're still near."

He never blamed her for anything. Even that first night together when fear drove him to seek her out, he came to confess, to ask _her _forgiveness. When she had rekindled his desire for life she also renewed his fear of death and _he_ felt ashamed of it. If she had just kept her mouth shut, if she hadn't taken every damn opportunity to spend hours with him in Life Support, he would've been able to meet his fate with dignity. It was her fault the solace he'd found, however bitter and lonely it may have been, had vanished.

And still, he came to her to apologize for feeling afraid, for feeling ashamed, as if it had somehow diminished him.

Even now, thinking back on it, she scoffed in disbelief.

As if he could do anything to lessen him in her eyes.

But that was the way it was, with Thane. He always thought of others before himself, always went out of his way to shift the burden of others onto his shoulders. It was just one of the many things she loved about him, even though it could frustrate her. Whenever she expressed concern for him, he always seemed amused, gently brushing it off. It could be annoying at times - all she wanted to do was care for and ministrate her lover but he was infuriatingly good at turning it around.

He was always saying the same thing to her, either in bed or sitting across from each other, always saying

_"You needn't worry, siha."_

_She glanced up from the scar on his chest she'd been lovingly tracing with her lips. His eyes were half-lidded, partly from their lovemaking, partly from her tender attentions in the afterglow._

_A few minutes ago - once she'd caught her breath - she had rolled over to cover his body with her own, holding herself above him by a few inches. A pleasant, seductive heat whispered between their bodies but she never lowered herself to lie against him. His breathing was poor enough without her full weight compressing his chest, and he knew she was being careful with him._

_Smiling, Thane brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, letting his fingertips drag over her skin so slowly she placed one kiss on his palm, another on his wrist. "My body can easily bear you, my love," he said, voice resonant and lazy. "You needn't hold yourself away."_

_Returning his smile with slightly wicked edge, Shepard held his eyes with hers and slowly licked along his scar. The tension in his body palpably increased. Brushing her lips against his, she felt his sharp intake of breath and she smiled. She pulled away slightly and kissed his cheek._

_"Shh," she whispered. "Just enjoy."_

_His warm, rumbling chuckle turned into a groan as she began lavishing her attention on another scar. She loved doing this, holding herself above him and just giving him gentle pleasure that didn't demand or force anything. Positioned like this, she felt like she was protecting him, shielding him with her own body. Times like these were far too rare and she made the most out of it at every opportunity._

_Moving down his chest, she began to explore the contours of muscle, which he had plenty of. Every soft kiss and warm brush of her tongue ratcheted the tension in his body another notch. His hands stroked her back with greater urgency, requesting she let their bodies meet. Instead, she moved down to his stomach. She grinned as his breathing hitched at her first delicate kiss._

_Though she did this just for him, she'd be lying if she said she didn't get any pleasure out of it as well. Nothing made her feel more content, more pleasurably satisfied, than turning him utterly soft and boneless beneath her, too blissfully happy to move._

_When the tension in him trembled on the edge of something more, threatening to turn into desperate need, she pushed away from him even more. Holding herself up on one arm, she began to gently massage the area of her attentions. Lightly drawing her fingers over his scales, she savored the exotic texture of him which was almost as good as seeing utter blissful relaxation spread through him. Watching this comfort, this happiness that only she could give, suffuse his entire body was an addiction she would never tire of._

_When he was totally boneless and too content move, she traded a few soft kisses with him then began to move off him._

_As her weight shifted, sudden bars of iron pressed against her back, pressing her flush against him. A startled gasp escaped her. "Thane!"_

_"Hmmm?" was his lazy reply. It looked like he was falling asleep, which had been the whole point, just not with her lying on top of him._

_She frowned at him, knowing he could see even though his eyes were barely open. She pushed against his arms holding her against him - she would never have thought he could move so fast or exert such strength in the state she put him in. It was like putting her back against wooden beams. He wasn't squeezing her against him; he just wasn't letting her rise._

_"Let me up," she said._

_A thoughtful hum answered her. "No," he said finally. He smiled at her reproving glower. "I said you needn't worry, my love. I can breathe just fine."_

_A exasperated sound expressed her opinion on that. "Thane, if I did anything to hurt you-"_

_"You won't," he said._

_"But if I did-"_

_"But you won't," he insisted. A pleased, buzzing laugh answered her glare. Cupping her face, he drew her in for a kiss - which was devastatingly good, in spite of her frustration with him. The exquisite sensation of his body pressed against hers didn't hinder any. When they parted, her eyes would only open halfway. Long, slow curls of pleasure unfurled deep inside and her satisfied sigh made Thane chuckle._

_"It's far more painful to feel you just beyond my reach than to feel you against me, siha," he rumbled. He traced her lips with his thumb, making her eyes drop shut. "Let me enjoy this while I can."_

_Well, damn. Nothing like a well-placed dollop of guilt to make her capitulate. He knew her too well. "I hate it when you do that," she groused, snuggling up to him. She could hear his heartbeat. He merely hummed again, stroking her hair as she fell toward sleep._

_A surreal, almost glossy texture started to spread over her senses - a side-effect of her drell-licking pastime. She felt like the world was slowly swaying around her and she nestled against him even more. It all felt too good to be true and not for the first time she wondered if this was real, if something this wonderful was actually hers._

_"This isn't a dream, right?" she mumbled, already well on her way to sleep._

_"Not that I'm aware of," Thane said, kissing her hair. "But it depends on who you ask."_

_After a moment of considering this, slowly being lulled to sleep by the swaying room - strangely in time with his heartbeat - Shepard twitched her shoulders in a slight shrug. The creeds and postulates of philosophers was too much for her to think over right now. There was only one thing she was absolutely certain of._

_"If this is a dream, don't wake me..."_

Shepard slipped out of the memory with a sigh. That had been their last night together. The next day she turned herself in to the Alliance courts to answer for the destruction of the Bahak system. That memory had sustained her for a long time. It was surprising, really, how many hours could be filled by lingering over every slow detail. Amazing how memories could become more real than the people around you, if you wanted it badly enough. Amazing how wounds of the flesh could heal faster than wounds of the soul.

Now, though, she looked at the memory in a different light. Like a prism suddenly casting a brilliant array of colors when tilted just right, a new perspective lit up an aspect of the memory she hadn't considered before.

Thane wandered through her dreams every night. If she couldn't have him here, why not there?

Why should she ever wake up?

Turning her head, she stared thoughtfully at the bottle of sleeping pills she'd acquired from Chakwas on the nightstand. Her hand lashed out, grabbed the bottle, and poured the pills into her hand. She stared at the little white harbingers of peace, of either the temporary or permanent variety.

It hurt seeing Thane every night. It twisted in her soul like a knife in the gut and even thinking about him made it hard to breathe. Seeing him but being unable to reach, to touch, was the worst kind of torture.

It hurt to remember.

But it hurt even more to forget.

Every day, she felt herself wearing more thin. Details would slip. Patience withered and hope in general was a thing she talked about but didn't feel. She was tired. Just... so damn tired. Worst of all, her memory started slipping. It was harder every night to remember Thane's face, what he felt like, what he smelled like. Even now he gave her a purpose, a reason to fight.

If those memories were lost in the fog of war, she didn't trust herself to keep on fighting. It was like losing him all over again but slower, even more intimately.

For a moment, she seriously considered taking the whole bottle and calling it quits. Just fall into the wonderful abyss of sleep where she dreamt nothing, she knew nothing and she eventually became nothing. So very simple.

She stared at the pills and thought about dreaming.

It really wasn't simple at all.

_All things worth keeping are._

Her lips twitched in a smile. That was Thane, always giving her advice, even now.

Her fist closed over the pills and poured the rest of them into the bottle.

Not tonight. Maybe other time, but this night she would fight on.

Thane would understand. He said he could wait. So could she.

Closing her eyes against the stars, Shepard turned to sleep and tried to find Thane again.

**xXxXx**

_Deep in the Crucible, in a part of the Citadel where not even Keepers roam, the playback of the memory stopped. The AI that replaced the Catalyst so long ago turned its massive awareness toward the outside world, momentarily brushing against the enormity of the galaxy with a simple thought._

_There was still work to do. The job was almost done and when it came, there would no longer be a need for her._

_Her body was gone._

_Her mind had changed beyond all organic limits, defined her existence purely through thought._

_But her memories still remained. Safely tucked into a deeply buried file, all that Shepard was, all that Shepard had been, all that she knew and loved and treasured and fought for, was here. It had been saved, to remind her of who she'd been as took on the god-breaking task before her. _

_This had been a precious memory, so similar to so many nights before, but significantly different in one respect._

_It had been the night she decided to see it through to the end. To never quit._

_That night, she'd made a silent promise to herself and one other. That promise had enabled her to win through impossible battles, to make an impossible decision._

_Reviewing the memories reminded her of her humanity._

_They also reminded her when it was time to say goodbye. To shut down. To wipe the databanks clean._

_To finally, after so long, allow herself to dream._

_She wasn't done yet. There was work to be done._

_Shutting down the memory bank for now, Shepard turned her attention back to the Reapers and the reconstruction of the galaxy. Thessia still needed some fine tuning to the atmosphere._

_"Don't worry, Thane," she murmured, her voice identical to when she'd had a body. "I'm coming."_


End file.
